


Found Behind the Iron Bars

by Alicethrutheburrows, Lunacylife



Category: Nightbound (Visual Novel), Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood, Captivity, Choices, Death Rituals, Dungeon, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, FantasyAU, First Love, Horror Elements, Idiots in Love, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Love, Medieval Medicine, NOTHING IS AS IT SEEMS, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Prison, Protectiveness, Rated For Violence, Rating May Change, Reader-Insert, Requited Love, Rituals, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suspense, Tags Are Fun, Thriller, Violence, Virgin Sacrifice, adding tags as we go, falling in love behind bars, make heaven out of hell, making the best out of a bad situation, vampireau, werewolfAU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alicethrutheburrows/pseuds/Alicethrutheburrows, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunacylife/pseuds/Lunacylife
Summary: Adventure, freedom, and the open air is what you were seeking as you ran from the orphanage and the arranged marriage about to be forced upon you. Yet, what finds you is a Vampiric horde, hell-bent on using you as a sacrifice and a werewolf who you have more in common with than you ever thought possible. As time before the full moon beings to run out, you find yourself failing to find a way out of your prison, and failing to your protect your heart.Basically, you fall in love while imprisoned.
Relationships: Cal Lowell/Main Character (Nightbound), Original Character(s)/Reader, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. The Woods

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Like the stillness, the silence of the forest is suffocating. The only sounds are the hammering of your heart, the ragged breath in your lungs, and the crunch of your footsteps on the forest floor. It seems unnatural to not hear any wildlife or even wind ruffling the trees. The eerie sensation of total aloneness fuels your instincts to keep running until a glow like a firefly in a jar shines off in the distant trees. You pick up your pace towards the light, perhaps it’s a fire, or an inn. Honestly at this moment any type of warmth would be welcome. You have been wanting to berate yourself for leaving in the middle of the night, but the chilly air doesn't hold a candle to the feeling of freedom.

A soft flame flickers in the night air as you come upon a clearing between the dense trees. A torch illuminates the doorway of a rather impressive inn, larger than you’d have expected for the middle of the woods. You smile in relief, rucking up your dress to step free from the brambles lining the edge of the clearing. You hadn’t planned on wearing your mother’s fine dress to run through the woods, but an opportunity to escape that prison was presented and you were not going to pass it up, even if it threatened one of your nicest dresses. 

Without a thought of how you might appear, you knock on the door of the Inn. A few moments pass in silence as you shiver in the cool night air before the sound of light feet approach from inside and unlocks the door. An old woman’s face peeks out from behind the wooden door and assesses you.

“Do you have a room available?” You ask noticing the tremble in your voice from the harsh shivers you have. With a dramatic gasp she pulls open the door and steps aside.

“Oh my heavens! Child, come in from the cold!” The older woman's voice drips with sweetness like honey. Deep wrinkles cover her face, but a smile lightens up her tired features. She grabs gently at your wrist, pulling you inside so she can close the heavy door behind you. You smile gratefully and follow her to the front desk where she pulls off the shelf a large tome-like book that you can only guess is the ledger.

“My my, we haven’t had a visitor in a while.” The woman murmurs setting the book down on her desk to flip it open. “How long will you be staying?”

“Just for the night,” you respond. She looks up in surprise, then scans you over once more as if suddenly just now realising the disheveled state you came in. Much to your relief, she makes no mention of it.

“Only the night? Oh my, well you’ll have to join me for dinner in that case. It’s been so long since we’ve had a guest I would love some company.” The old woman coos with a cloying smile. You nod accepting the kindness of a meal and hoping she won’t keep you away from your bed for too long. 

“And don’t worry about payment for now, we’ll settle the matter in the morning.” She continues ahead leading you further into the Inn as if sensing you fumble for the stash of coins in your satchel. 

You are lead down a dimly lit hall towards an open bedroom where she advises you to leave your few possessions and get ready for dinner. You sit on the edge of the bed as she leaves to fix the food, breathing out in relief you lean back to bask in the softness of the downy comforter. A smile slips onto your face as the tension leaves your body, you can tell you made the right decision by leaving the orphanage. 

The orphanage had been your home for far too long and, since you are becoming older, they have become much too overbearing for a fully grown woman such as yourself. You let out a giddy laugh and roll over to bury your face into the goose-feather pillow, running away was the ultimate freedom that you’ve always wanted and you feel you made a sound decision.

The sound of knocking wakes you from your rest, you sit up taking a second to remember where you are after you must have dozed off. You stretch out your tired joints and get up to answer the door while also adjusting your dress which was disheveled from the nap. You open the door to be greeted by the old woman, she smiles and asks you to come along while grabbing your wrist and half dragging you down the corridor. The smell of stew wafts down the hall and makes you remember your last meal of apple and porridge had been early that morning, where now it was well into the night. 

You smile at the spread before you once you reach the dining room. Not only is there a big pot of stew, but surrounding it is an assortment of fluffy breads, fruit platters and small cheeses, plus a pitcher of what looks like wine reflecting the candle’s light on it’s maroon surface. There are even some dishes you don’t recognize thrown into the mix, and you are all too happy to sit where the older woman directs you to. You can feel your mouth watering at the sight of the spread covering the dining table and thank fate for sending you here.

“My you look absolutely famished! Please, eat up!” The old woman prattles on as she almost pushes you into your seat, then pours a generous glass of wine that you are reluctant to drink on an empty stomach. You thank her with a shy smile as she ladles out a large bowl of hearty stew and sets it before you. “Now you must tell me dear, how did you end up all the way out here? And all alone at that.”

You pause, holding up a spoonful of potato and broth from the stew and start mulling over your words.

“I was looking to start over I suppose, somewhere where I could choose my own fate.” The woman watches you while you take your first bite of the flavorful dish, her eyes scan over you from where she sits across the table. You only then notice that she doesn’t have a plate of her own. A nagging feeling starts to bug you as you realize just how excessive the amount of food she made is, especially for only two people. But you push the thought aside to continue filling your empty tummy.

After a few bites of the rich food you take a glass of wine that the woman holds out to you, freshly poured just a moment ago. The bitter drink fizzles on the way down your throat in an unfamiliar way, you wonder if perhaps it’s been so long since you’ve had wine that you forgot what it tastes like and take another gulp to be polite. You blink setting the glass back down, head swimming a little already from the strength, or that’s what you assume it is. In truth you’ve only had wine a couple of times on special occasions, and even then only a sip or two from someone older who offered you a taste.

“So won’t anyone be looking for you out here? Any husband or family you’re trying to get away from?”

Your chewing slows as you narrow your eyes, her tone seems much too interested and you’ve learned over the years not to talk too much about yourself lest you be taken for a fool. Contrary to your thoughts though, you feel a jumble of words crawling up your throat begging for escape.

“No, I have no one. I ran away from my home at an orphanage after the headmistress told me she was arranging a marriage proposal for me.” You blurt out, completely unprepared and unsure why you revealed any of this to the woman you just met. Perhaps it was the strong wine and the harmless appearance of the Innkeeper, but you still feel like you wouldn’t have let any of those personal details slip even under the circumstances. With a frown you push away your wine glass.

“A proposal, so you didn’t wish to commit to the man? I assume you have a lover you wish to marry then.” The old woman stands and slowly circles the table as she questions you. You can feel the nagging sensation growing in your gut, urging you to shut your mouth and retreat to your room where no one can pry into your life.

“I’ve never been with a man in a romantic sense,” You nearly burst out feeling as if the words are forcing themselves past your lips. 

“Never? A beauty like you has never stolen a young man’s heart?” She grasps her chest in a deliberately dramatic fashion, then raises a thin eyebrow intrusively, “Well perhaps you’ve caught their eye but not their interest?”

“I beg your pardon? Are you asking if I’ve slept with men before?” You gape in a mix of discomfort and humiliation. 

“Oh please child, I am not so blind to the world that I don’t know ladies may have their… dalliances before marriage.” She scoffs with a trace of judgement that betrays her motherly aura.

“Never, I’ve never done anything besides hold hands with a man. Even then I was only a small child.” With a rushed refusal you stand hastily from the table, now worried for your sanity as you still cannot contain the secrets spilling from your lips. The Innkeeper chuckles before roughly snatching your wrist where your hand is planted on the table.

“My my my, such a timid little thing you are.” 

You stare fearfully into the seemingly sinister eyes of the woman before she releases your arm from her cold grasp. For a split second it seemed as if her voice morphed into something different, but you shake the thought off warily as well as the feeling of her icy fingers. 

“Come now child, I didn’t mean to scare you. Won’t you stay and finish dinner with me?” Her words come out distorted, an unsettling blend of two voices saying the same thing. You shake your head, worried now that you have fallen into a fate worse than you have left behind by knocking on the front door of a mysterious Inn in the middle of the woods. 

“I would like to go back to my room, I don’t feel very well.” With a shaky voice you step away from the woman, eyeing her warily as she remains still in front of you. 

“Oh that’s too bad, I was hoping you’d join me for a midnight stroll.” The sweet voice of the old woman resurfaces alone this time when she tries to guilt you into spending longer in her unnerving presence. You can’t shake the eerie feeling any longer as the sound of her makes you stumble out of her reach and back away towards the hall.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you turn your back to her, your steps slightly frantic as you make your way down the corridor towards what you hope is the way to your room. As you speed down the hallway you start to notice little flaws you hadn’t seen before, like the splintering wood floor which you could have sworn was polished when you arrived. The wallpaper is split and torn from age and cobwebs seem to have appeared out of nowhere. You turn your head every which way as the walls seem to flicker back into pristine order, leaving you fearful for your sanity.

Finally you spot the open door to your room as you round the corner, still dark and empty as you left it. With a burst of speed you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut as soon as you enter the room, then quickly locking it when you think you hear the sound of footsteps approaching down the hall.

With practiced ease you hurry to collect your meager belongings, wishing only to be far away from this eerie place. Your hopes of running out the front door are smashed when you hear the Innkeeper’s unnerving voice through the wooden door.

“Now, now sweetie” The old woman coos trying the door knob “Come out and have some tea, let’s finish our talk.” You watch the door knob rattle again and again “Open this door sweetie, or I’ll open it.”

Your breath hitches at the finality of the old woman’s threat. Her voice straining with the dual-toned eeriness you can no longer ignore. You brain screams one word--run. You take a shaky breath, hastily throwing the rest of your things together as you scan the room for an exit strategy. A ribbon of relief runs through your veins as you spot a window you can open, although it’s no match for the growing sinking feeling in your gut of what will happen if you stay any longer.

The window is only slightly out of your reach, landing chest height and too far up to easily swing yourself through. Behind you on the other side of the door, you can hear voices talking to each other, none of them belonging to the old woman. Swallowing a gulp you swing your satchel over your shoulder and grab hold on the frame of the bed. The feet scrape loudly across the wood floor as you begin to pull it underneath the window, and you jump once the entire door begins to shake. You watch for a moment as it withstands a few solid pounds but you continue moving and climb over the bed to the window knowing the wood won’t stand forever. The glass of the window judders as you free the latch and swing the doors out harshly, you boost yourself to sit on the sill and dare a glance to the ground about six feet down.

Your ears are flooded with the sound of thumping--thumping of the almost broken door, of your heart, and of heavy footsteps--as you swing one leg over the windowsill while gathering your dress the best you can before you swing your other leg out the window. A slight pain shoots up your shins when your feet hit the ground, but there’s no time to spare it a thought when the sound of wood splitting and shouting echoes from the window. 

You start for the trees hoping the cover of night will hide you. The irony isn’t lost on you, escaping one horror only to have to escape another, as you fly towards the forest. Small twigs and branches scratch at your face and tug at your dress like dozens of tiny hands, they try to pull you back as you weave your way in deeper desperate for cover. 

The silence you once found suffocating feels like an oasis. Your lungs burn, your legs ache, and you feel the adrenaline slowly leaving your body as you throw yourself behind a tree to ease your harsh breaths. Sliding your eyes closed, you take a moment to listen, when you hear nothing you take a few more deep breaths. You know you need to keep moving, the farther away from the creepy inn you get, the better. With one last deep breath you push off the tree surveying your route options. 

You start towards the right thinking a zig-zag pattern would be harder to follow. But you’re no further than two steps in when you run blindly into a solid mass followed by a small gasp escaping your lips. A set of blinding white teeth accompanied by two razor sharp fangs and miles of pale skin fills your line of vision. Instinctively you begin taking small steps back but are stopped when chilly fingers wrap around your wrist. 

“Ah,” The small sound snaps your attention up to fair blue eyes, so pale they look almost translucent. Amusement dances over the man’s sharp features as he leans forward, gripping your wrist to hold you in place while his free hand ghosts across your cheek and moves to tuck in piece hair behind your ear. Like a snake dancing to a snake charmers tune, you can’t help but feel entranced by the man’s eyes while every hair on your body stands on end. Your brain is waging war against itself with part screaming in terror while the other remains completely silent. His breath even feels cold against the shell of your ear as he finishes speaking “She was right, you are perfect.” 

The scream never leaves your chest as the world goes black with the fading sound of chuckling. 

~~~~~~~

Weightless. Your whole being feels weightless yet your mind feels like it is swimming through quicksand as you will your blurry eyes to clear. They barely flutter enough for a narrow slice of vision allowing you glimpses of some stone flooring. You hold out against the pain of keeping them open as long you can before having to close them again. Conversations bounce through your ears with no one word decipherable. A shiver runs down your spine, wherever you are it is freezing. 

You feel the burning pain again when you try opening your eyes once more. As stubborn as you are you can’t help but fight against your situation. This time when your eyelids slowly part you are met with pale, sharp features and long ghastly-white hair surrounding a fearsome face. The being’s eyes seem to only have a pupil until you realize his irises are a matching pale silver, almost white hue.

The man before you is all you can bring into focus, his cold gaze only inches away as he assesses you and takes up your entire field of vision. His haunting eyes shutter closed just for a moment as he inhales deeply just a hair’s breadth away from your pulsing jugular. 

“Yes, she will work.” His somber voice echoes across the room. “A sublime specimen indeed.”

Despite his words, when the man pulls away there is no trace of emotion on his pallid face. You struggle through the fog in your head to try pulling away from his dreadful gaze, all you can manage is a pitiful whine from the base of your throat before your eyes are drooping shut again. 

“Take her to the dungeon, afterwards no one is to lay a finger on her aside from me.” The cold order would have sent a shiver down your spine if you were conscious enough to understand it. Your head lolls forward limply once the figure’s grasp releases you, the steel grip on each of your arms keeps you upright enough to pull you along. Only now when they start moving do you realize it is two other figures keeping you upright, they carry on quietly while you sag in their grasp.

The sleep from before takes hold of you once again, washing over you suddenly as you are taken away from the man giving orders. You fight futilely against your holders as you drift into unconsciousness. Your limbs barely twitch in response before you are surrendering to sleep and to the darkness once again. 

~~~~~~~

You jerk awake at the sound of rusted iron scraping against itself. A jagged whine pierces the stale air and disrupts the silence you've become acclimated to. You bolt upright, body tensing in anticipation of what heinous reasons the dreaded horde would come up with to pay you a visit in the dead of night. Checking the marks in the wall beside your cot, you notice it’s been three nights and two days now since you’ve been trapped and wonder if the full moon outside your window marks a changing point in your captivity. As you hide in the shadows however, you see a handful of guards hunched together and moving in sync towards the iron gate to your right. The darkness and flickering of their torch obscures most of their movements but still doesn’t completely hide them or the limp body they haul inside. 

They struggle to drag the hulking form whose legs drag behind them. The bodies dark complexion and the sole torch the horde carries makes it hard to distinguish any features besides the beige tattered pants on his lower half and the dark, stringy scraps of fabric hanging off his body from what must have been his shirt.

“Why did we get stuck hauling this worthless sack back here, I can’t stand the smell of his kind.” One of the Vampires grunts out as he watches the other fish out the key to the cell beside your own. You cringe at the heavy sound the stranger’s body makes with the stone floor as the guards throw him down haphazardly, they likely cared little for the damage they could do to his unconscious body.

“Disgusting mutt, you’re lucky your pack ran off or we would have gotten them too.” The other guard derides with a disgusted curl of his lip. His blood brothers cackle in amusement, their fangs glint white in the sinister light of their torch. You squint at the comment, confusion shrouding your mind until you hear a faint growl from the heap of limbs on the floor.

“AH!” You yelp in fright, only realizing now that it’s no human on the other side of the iron bars. The wisps of what you thought were fabric are clearly dark locks of fur matted with blood. What you assumed was his dark complexion is really the colored pelt covering his skin.

A younger looking horde member rattles the bars between your cell and the creature, his eyes as wide as his evil grin when he sees you jump in fright.

“You best stay quiet in there, you wouldn’t want the big bad wolf to eat you.” He cackles ominously while his brethren evacuate the cell.

“Yes yes, you should hope the bars are strong enough to keep him out.” One of the others snidely adds looming in front of your cell while the others lock the iron door behind them. 

“I suppose you should wish the same for your own sake. You all fled fairly quickly once you sensed him waking up.” You smirk back at their scowling faces as they file out of the dungeon together. The last sends a hiss towards you which you do your best to conceal the shiver it evokes.

The loud clamor of the dungeon door slamming shut is followed by another grumble from the unconscious creature in the neighboring cell. You scoot back on your cot, wary of the mysterious and giant pile of limbs only separated from you by a few iron bars. Its face is still turned away, much to your unease.

You sit on the far end of your bed staring at the creature for what feels like hours, trying to convince yourself that if the vampires trusted the iron cell to hold the beast then you should too.

Just when you begin to wonder if the creature will ever wake up, it lets out a loud, resounding growl. The vibrations bounce off the stone walls and sink into your own trembling spine with a chill. You can see the dark silhouette move in the dim light of the torch, the one left stuck in the sconce on the wall outside your cells by the vampires earlier. The creature’s shoulders hunch slowly, rising with a growl as it drags its massive arms to lift itself off the floor. Its torso is massive from what you can tell, even as it braces on its large, clawed hands and curls into itself while trying to regain its strength.

Finally, you see its face. When the creature turns its head back and forth to take in the dungeon surrounding both of you, you catch sight of the pointed ears and dagger-sharp teeth exposed by a snarl. Your heart catches in your throat, stunned and terrified by what appears to be a real life Werewolf. The creature often rumored and believed by most to be a myth, and by those who hold faith believe due to their incredibly secluded culture and reclusive nature are as rare as being born the King's daughter. You never thought you would see one in the flesh, yet here one is, only separated by a few iron bars.

The next movements the creature makes are quick and jerky, lifting itself and pouncing on the iron door with a loud growl. You cover your ears at the deafening echoes of the lock rattling in place and resounding snarls of the displeased captive locked inside. It rises to its full height a moment later when it seems to notice your presence. 

The Werewolf puffs up its chest to face you head on. You notice belatedly that it, or rather HE, is most definitely male. His yellow eyes scan your huddled form while he makes himself as large as possible, no doubt trying to assert dominance before realizing how little of a threat you are. His growls die down as he stares at you, perhaps realizing that you are also being held prisoner like him, or perhaps while he sniffs the air he realized you are just some human and not one of the Vampires that attacked him. 

With a small huff the Werewolf blinks at you then turns away to resume trying to escape. He flings his body against the door again, then against the bars beside it, huffing and grunting with each slam. You watch his fruitless efforts with pity, remembering trying the same thing the previous day along with the fear and hopelessness that accompanied it. He seems to cling to his anger as he tries prying the bars loose, not that he would fit through the gap anyway due to his sheer size.

When his efforts to pry the bars apart proves useless, the werewolf slams his shoulder against the bars one last time followed by a resounding yelp. You watch with surprise as he collapses into a heap on the floor, turning over to shield his injured shoulder that you’ve only just noticed.

Sitting up taller, you try to see where he has collapsed. It appears, much to your surprise, that he is now licking his wounds as if only now realising they hurt. Your bed creaks as you lean over to get a better look, still curious about the mystical creature one cell away, and the sound catches the Werewolf’s attention. You’re shocked back at the sound of a snarl ripped from his throat, and see his yellow eyes pinning you in place like the injured and defensive creature he is.

For a moment he just looks at you with a low grumble in his chest, and you feel bad for him. The wide gashes over his shoulder look incredibly painful, and eerily similar to claw marks, making you assume he was in a fight with the vampires before being brought here. The comment that the vampires made earlier pops back into your head and you wonder if the Werewolf was caught the same way as you, separated from his pack and taken by force when he wound up all alone. Your heart aches for him imagining how awful that must have been, especially if Werewolf packs are as tightly knit as everyone has heard, then he must have felt awfully out of sorts all alone with you in some dungeon.

“You shouldn’t lick your wounds,” you mutter as you watch him try to clean a cut on his forearm with his tongue. He lifts his head at the sound of your voice and stares back at you blankly. He doesn’t make a sound when you move to stand from your bed this time, only watches silently as you go to pick up the clay bowl on your window ledge. You look into the water filling the bowl, trying to steady your hands as you step a bit closer towards the Werewolf. His eyes follow your every movement until you stop a few paces from the bars of his cell.

You glance at his looming form in trepidation, making sure you are far enough past the bars to be outside his reach before setting the bowl on the floor. While he watches on curiously from further in his cell, you nudge the bowl closer with the toe of your boot. Just as soon as you know it’s within his reach you hear him start to growl softly in warning, you look up and step away only for him to become silent once again. You back away slowly while keeping an eye on him until finally running back to your cot where you know it’s safe.

While curled up facing him you notice him sniff the air, trying to figure out what you left him. His eyes dart back and forth between you and the bowl, still suspicious. His giant body looms near the bars before starting to pace back and forth, his yellow eyes shift from you to the bowl still not quite trusting your intentions. He continues this ritual for maybe five agonizing minutes, long enough that you lean your head against the wall beside you in boredom while you wait it out.

Suddenly his arm lashes out through the iron bars and into your cell, quickly grabbing the bowl and splashing some of the water in the process. The abrupt move makes you jump in surprise, probably just how he planned to catch you off guard. He hovers his nose over the half full bowl and takes a few heavy whiffs, then stares back at you as he clutches it closer to himself. Without further ado he tilts the liquid back and does a mix between lapping it up and chugging it before licking his mouth for the last drop. You jump once again when the giant furry creature tosses the bowl back through the bars towards the foot of your bed, thankfully aiming towards a patch of straw so it doesn’t shatter.

“Do you want more?” You ask watching how he looks back and forth between the discarded bowl and yourself. The motion almost makes you chuckle as it reminds you how a dog might wait in anticipation for you to throw a stick. You get up slowly and pick up the slightly slobbery clay before walking back to the window where a small stream of rainwater trickles through the opening. While watching it refill, you wonder just how normal it is for such a solitary and untrusting species to allow a stranger to help them when they are injured. You would not have expected him to indulge your charity, even though he did show resistance at first, let alone ask for more.

You turn back with the full dish in your hands and hesitantly walk towards the Werewolf who is waiting directly behind the metal boundary. Seeing him face you at full height is overwhelming to say the least, standing about 7 feet tall his giant frame looks like it could dwarf a stallion, and the hulking muscles under his fur are unlike any you’ve seen on a human. You bend over once again and set the bowl just out of his reach before nudging it with your foot and quickly scuttling back to the safety of your cot.

He must have grabbed the water when your back was turned, because when you look back, he's already pouring the liquid into his toothy mouth. You blink when he throws the clay bowl back once again before you’ve even sat down.

“You know, I was hoping you would use the water to clean your wounds,” you mention while picking up the bowl again. You are starting to feel like a barmaid at this rate while you refill the bowl once more. As you begin walking back, you pause for a moment thinking how best to help the injured creature with what little you have. With a second thought about how wasteful this might be, you tear the sleeve from your dress and fold it under the bowl, hoping that the canine creature might understand how to clean his own wounds.

The Werewolf stares at you blankly when you then re approach with one missing sleeve. You level him with a stare of your own before holding up the scrap of fabric.

“Use this to help okay? You can’t just lick your wounds.” You half wonder if he can even understand anything you’re saying at this point when he merely continues to watch you. This time you only step back a little as you wait for him to take the items. 

You repress a smile, as well as a shiver, when he seems to disregard your presence while snaking his giant clawed hand past the bars and scooping up the items. He lifts the fabric curiously to his nose, drawing in your scent deeply enough that when his eyes meet yours you can’t help but blush. He gives the scrap of fabric thorough attention, probably finding it easier to smell something that you’ve touched and judge you rather than sniffing the air surrounding you.

Seemingly satisfied with the fabric, he lowers it from his nose glancing at you one last time before moving deeper into his cell. Taking the hint, you return to your bed catching only faint glimpses of his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. Comfortable silence befalls the two cells, leaving you with nothing but your rampaging thoughts and the trickling sound of water. Life outside the orphanage was really turning out to be something--not one but two mythical species, a prison cell, and one lumpy bed. Closing your eyes, this situation was not at all what you imagined when you set forth on your grand adventure although, you’ll admit you’d rather have this musty prison cell over an arranged marriage any day. 

The silence stretches for a few moments before soft, something oddly close to purring, sounds fill the cells. The sound is like sleep’s siren song and it’s not long before you are giving into its will.


	2. The Cell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 2! Thanks for sticking around, I hope you enjoy the next installment. This one is a little darker but also a little sweeter.

Turning over with a grunt, you start to awaken. The lumps of the mattress underneath you are unforgiving and offer no comfort that would make you wish to stay in bed all morning. Blinking blearily you can see little rays of morning light shining through the window, the warm gold contrasting with the grey stone it lands on.

It takes a moment for you to remember where you are, and the cold breeze does it's best to remind you of the squalor you are living in as it whistles through the open window. Once you sit up you remember everything, the kidnap, the dungeon, the stupid chamber pot, and most notably the new inhabitant of the cell next door.

You turn instinctively to look in the other cell, still somewhat fearful of the massive creature and what it may look like without the darkness to hide it. What you see is a surprise though, where once stood a giant canine beast is now a huddled form of a... man.

Well it looks like a man from behind, but the broad shoulders, tan skin, and large muscles of his bare back make you wonder if he is another species altogether. You can feel yourself frozen where you sit, caught off guard by the new dungeon dweller and the heat his revealing appearance sends to your cheeks. As if sensing your eyes on him, the man turns his head to look at you. His face shows open curiosity. You give the being in front of you a weighted gaze as your eyes rake down his torso taking in his defined abs and pecs. Then you look back up and see his beautiful face, with warm brown eyes and a perfectly chiseled jaw and feel yourself being pulled in.

Realizing how you are ogling the exposed figure of the being, you jolt back. Mortification crawls up your nape in a heated scarlet hue. Casting your eyes down, you feel the heat expand from your nape across your face.

"Thank you," he says softly. Your eyes dart back up to see him, called by the warm timbre of his voice. He moved to stand in front of the bars, looking at you. "For the water, I mean."

He crosses his arms over his chest awkwardly as if trying to maintain a semblance of modesty in front of you, but flinches in pain. You realize this really must be the same creature from the night before when you see the nasty gash on his shoulder slightly camouflaged by the dirt and blood staining his torso and ragged trousers.

"What..." You start to ask but have trouble finding the words. "What are you?"

You rise slowly from the cot, taking a few steps to get a better look.

"Are you really the same creature from last night?"

He furrows his brow, like he is trying to decipher your question.

"What, have you never heard of a werewolf?" He asks. Your eyes widen in realization, this must be his human form!

"So werewolves really are real," you say in awe. The man seems to grow flustered as you approach him, looking through the metal bars to stare up at him incredulously. "I didn't realize you would look so... human."

He chuckles at that.

"I'm surprised you aren't afraid, we have a bit of a reputation you know?" He smiles for a second making you notice how handsome he is.

"Oh I've heard all the legends, but there's not much reason to fear you when we're both trapped in here together." You sigh towards the end, unconsciously grabbing onto an iron bar while remembering where you are.

“I guess you’re right about that.” He sighs.

“I don’t suppose you can bust us out of here?” You ask watching as he approaches the cell door. His muscles bulge as he pulls on the bars, but the hinges don’t even creak under his strength.

He grunts as he lets go and turns back towards you, “Nope, if the wolf couldn’t break through then no way I can.”

Turning back to look at your own cell, you wonder if anything could be useful in aiding your escape. The tallies scratched into the wall above your cot give you pause.

“How long are they going to keep us here?” The question was more to yourself than the stranger.

“No longer than they have to,” he bitterly replies making you turn back around.

You watch him sit down in the back of the cell, leaning against the wall with a wince. The sight makes your heart ache imagining how the Vampires must have tormented him.

"How are you feeling?" You ask watching him look over his wound.

"Weaker than I've felt in a long time," he mumbles leaning his head back with a sigh. You turn away and go to fill up the bowl like you did the night before. Silently, he watches with curiosity as you approach his cell with another bowl of water.

"Here, drink some." You insist while crouching down to pass the bowl through the bars. He eyes you without a trace of distrust, taking the outstretched offering.

"What's your name?" he asks, lifting the bowl to his lips. You blink, taking a second to process his words before carefully telling him your name. He still watches your face as he drinks, assessing you before you ask him the same. He licks his lips before answering capturing a stray drop and you can't stop yourself from watching his plump lips.

"I'm Cal."

“I’ve never heard a name like that before,” you think out loud remembering the names of people in your village. You shake the memory, not wanting to think about them while you remain trapped in here. “Anyway, that shoulder looks pretty bad, maybe I can help you tend to it.”

Cal lifts his head with a hopeful look before a trace of distrust flits across his features. He stands slowly to his full height, and looks you up and down before approaching.

“Why would you do that?” He asks using his large frame to loom over you. Even while separated by iron he holds a strong air of confidence, like he could crush you if he wanted.

“Well, you need to be in good shape if you want any chance of getting out of here.” 

He nods slowly, still watching you as he thinks it over. A beat passes before you try your luck again.

“Can I see?” You ask softly, gesturing up to his shoulder.

“Promise not to hurt me?” he smiles down at you with a charming gentleness. Seeing him soften eases your nerves a bit, helping you see him in a more human light. Now as he stands before you asking you to treat him well, you can feel him transform in your head to something less mystical and more like a man.

“I’ll do my very best,” You blush trying to look away from his charming grin. 

After a moment the two of you decide it best to sit so you could get a better look at his wound. You end up settling down in a sunny spot against the bars, Cal leans back against the barrier hissing as he presents the open cut to you. You settle on your knees and rip off the other sleeve of your dress wrapping it around your hand to touch his shoulder. Reaching back through the bars you grab the mostly full bowl of water and wet the fabric, then gently rub away the mess of dried blood over his back. Cal hisses at the contact of the cloth on his tender skin below the wound and you apologise softly.

You get up a few times to refill the bowl, changing out the red murky water and rinsing off the cloth you keep covering your hand. The repetition gives you ample time to think about why you’re helping him. You wonder what made you approach him so easily when you really don’t know him. Although, you think to yourself, if he wanted to hurt you, he could have easily reached through the bars and done it already. The night before he could have easily grabbed you if he wanted, but the fact that he didn’t while still in his beastly mind reassures you that he means no harm.

Once you are certain that most of the blood is cleaned up, you assess the major wound. It starts at the base of his neck and leads a jagged line over his shoulder before thinning to an end on his shoulder blade. 

You warn him before gently opening the crusty gash to see the extent of the injury. He grunts, grabbing the wall as you look into the shallow canyon of torn skin and thin layer of fat covering the still intact muscle. You squint into the dark redness thinking you see a sparkle, and lean back to mention it.

“Cal, did they stab you with something silver?” He turns his head thinking about it.

“Why do you ask?” 

“Well it looks like there are little flakes of silver in the cut.”

“Damn it,” He grumbles.

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask removing your hand as he pulls away.

“I need you to get the silver out or it won’t heal,” He grunts out leaning over to the pile of straw in the corner of his cell and fetching the sleeve you had forgotten about from the night before. He wads it up and bites down while settling back against the bars for you to work.

“Ok i’ll try washing them out first.” You stammer out, worried about going digging for the debris.

Grabbing the bowl you hold open the tear with your cloth covered hand and pour. You wince along with Cal as the first speck of metal gets dislodged and floats out onto your sleeve. Flicking it away into your cell, you continue your efforts to flush the wound while Cal grumbles into the cloth gag in pain.

“I don’t think any more is coming out this way,” You warn him sitting back so he can catch his breath.

“Better get in there then. Don’t worry about hurting me, having it stay in is worse.” He groans momentarily removing the gag from his mouth and you nod steeling yourself as you wrap the bloodied sleeve around your finger.

You whisper an apology before digging your finger into the wound, then quickly scraping out the visible silver as blood starts filling in the cut again. Cal yells into the cloth in his mouth, making you wince and accidentally drop a flake onto his back. You gasp as he flinches, only now seeing how the metal leaves burns in its wake over his tanned skin. Now you realise the damage it could do internally and hurry to grab it off his back, then throw it away as you did before.

“Ok I only see one more,” You tell him. You reach back in the cut before he can react and, as quickly as possible, scoop out the last bit of silver. Pouring the last of the water on the running blood, you wipe him as clean as you can manage before getting up. You wish you had a way to close the cut, but unfortunately there is nothing, so you have to be happy that you could at least clean it.

“Thank you,” He pants, trying to catch his breath. You nod to him and refill the bowl in your cell before handing it back over to him for a drink. “Damn Vampires must have used silver to weaken me during the fight.”

“Is that how they captured you? Using silver to weaken you?” you wonder.

He lowers the water with a gulp, pursing his lips and tracing his finger along the rim of the bowl.

“Well… I mean, Werewolves… we are usually stronger than Vampires. But the silver wasn’t the only trick they used.”

“Then, how did they capture you? How did they trick you?” you ask in confusion seeing him pout.

“I could ask you the same question.” he counters, “I thought humans lived in herds and stone houses.”

You look down, flustered by the memory of your capture.

“They caught me alone.” you pick at the stained and worn hem of your dress, recalling the mud and brambles you ran through for hours on end.

“Oh…” he mumbles, then falls into a sigh “I guess we have that in common.”

“So… You really are a Werewolf?” you ask awkwardly.

“Well what else would you call it?” A smile flickers across his face as he looks back at you.

“A myth perhaps?” you muse with a hint of a smile. You look back up with curiosity, “What do you call us?”

“Curious?” he laughs and you smile at his teasing glad that his poor condition isn’t affecting his mood too much.

“So you never really answered my question, how did they catch you if you are stronger than them?”

He adjusts his sitting position, turning to face you with his legs criss crossed, showing himself fully to you as well as his attention.

“I fell into a trap. That’s the short version.” He tells you avoiding your eyes.

“We have that in common then, I feel rather foolish for the trap I fell for.” You tell him with an air of embarrassment.

“Oh? Why is that?” He asks curiously leaning forward.

“I was… lured into the lion’s den with promises of food and goods night sleep. All at the hands of a devious old lady.”

He brings a hand up quickly trying to cover his laugh. You blush at how foolish you sound.

“Yes very devious. And I doubt she was really an old woman,” he muses.

You give him a look of confusion, and remember all the odd events of that night. It wouldn’t surprise you if he was right after all that has happened.

“Vampires have an ability to cast Glamours and change their appearance to mortal eyes.” he says and you wonder how he knows that.

Everything seems to click into place after that piece of information. Your mind swarms, realising all the odd illusions and hallucinations from that night. From the flickering vision in the hall, to the dual tone of the old woman.

“They must have magic to put people to sleep too then,” you mumble lost in thought.

“I wouldn’t know about that. They ambushed me while I was alone and attacked with silver claws once I was surrounded.”

“Oh that’s awful,” you admit feeling rather lucky to have gotten here without major harm, but also you can’t help feeling bad for Cal and wondering why he was treated so badly in comparison.

“I’m more embarrassed than anything else, I should never have had my guard down long enough for them to get the jump on me.” he grumbles reaching back towards his shoulder injury.

“Maybe I can-” You are interrupted by the clanging of the dungeon door unlocking. Jumping up, you bolt for the cot to put distance between you and the door. Cal does the same, standing with an intimidating aura while watching the door. 

A stiff vampire peers inside with obvious distaste then closes the door behind him once he brings in a tray of what you presume is food. When he turns back he sends a mix between a hiss and scoff towards the werewolf before walking towards your cellar door. He sits the tray on the ground, kicking it under the door so it slides noisily over the stone floor. You don’t move even as it comes to a stop in the middle of the cell, though now you notice it looks as dreadful as your surroundings.

“Eat up princess,” the pale creature snidely remarks before turning and leaving once again, locking the door behind him.

“They didn’t bring you anything,” you mutter after a moment of silence.

“I doubt they will, they want me weak remember?”

“Well… take some of mine then.”

“I really shouldn’t. Smells like they mixed in some wolfsbane to be safe.” he says tilting up his nose to catch a longer whiff. He blows out with a queasy look

You go over to look over the food and see the bowl of soup and bread and a cloth wrapped around something round. Just as you reach down for the fabric, the door swings open once again. You jump back as the same guard from a second ago is walking up to the door in front of you.

“Almost forgot, King wanted you to have something clean to wear.” He says coldly carrying a swath of white fabric draped over his armored arm. He eyes the ripped sleeves on your dress with distaste before unlocking the cell with his free hand.

You step back quickly on shaking legs until you reach the back corner of the cell. A loud resounding growl rips from Cal, warning and alarm sounding out while the guard fiddles with the iron lock. While you tremble fearfully, worried about the harm his kind could unleash upon you, Cal shakes violently on the bars to your cell. The Vampire pauses at the abrupt clanging before huffing and throwing open the door unceremoniously, stepping in after a moment and walking your way.

“Please, don’t touch me!” You scream panic lacing your eyes as well as your voice before the vampire scoffs and turns to lay the fabric in his arms over the cot besides you in the corner of the cell. His form stays rooted only feet away before he turns his icy gaze upon you.

“Stop being so dramatic you pathetic little-”

“GET OUT! GET AWAY FROM HER!” Cal’s furious shouts echo deafeningly over the two of you, interrupting the Vampire’s insults. The iron creaks and groans as he pulls with all his strength, eyes starting to glow yellow and teeth emerging sharply from his snarl. “I’LL RIP THE ICY FLESH FROM YOUR BONES IF YOU TOUCH HER!”

“Oh quit it mongrel.” The vampire hisses back

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HER CELL?!” Another voice sounds from the open door of your cell. The guard beside you turns in surprise then straightens up noticing the female guard watching him.

“I was-”

“You can’t be in the girl’s cell, didn’t you hear the king?” the woman scowls stepping inside.

“I never touched her, do not scold me sister.”

“Well get out before he finds out,” She steps up to grab him, keeping her distance from you. Your eyes dart towards the open cell and the gap between the vampires. 

Not taking another second to hesitate, you scramble up past the two bickering Vampires. Your feet carry you quickly past them before they catch sight of you heading towards the open door.

“Not so fast!” a split second before you are out the door a steely cold grip latches onto your upper arm. You stumble back with a wince and pained yelp, causing Cal to growl even louder.

“That is it. You are seeing him now.” The woman hisses only an inch from your face, her eyes boring into yours like a snake.

Not wasting another second the two cult members grab your arms and begin dragging you out of your cell. Cal shouts in anger grabbing at the bars as he is half transformed. His shouts fade into the background while yours echo through the hall the whole way as you are dragged kicking and screaming. You come upon a familiar room, and a familiar white figure sitting upon a throne.

Great stone arches loom over you as you pass the threshold of the throne room. White banners with illegible writing hang from the top of the walls on either side of you, matching the white marble of the throne. Intricate silver decorations are scattered about on the glass and stone displays as well as hanging behind the throne showing the cult’s status and wealth. Your eyes linger on the tall stained glass windows on either side of the throne, graphic scenes on slaying and doom depicted in dark colors with a pale woman recurring throughout. Her midnight hair veils her face, save for the hollow gaze that stares down at you as she stands atop a pile of corpses. The purple of her eyes contrasts so shockingly you have trouble escaping her vision, a feeling of dread builds the closer you are brought to them.

“What is this?” The hollow voice of the leader resounds as he stands with a barely visible scowl. You quake feeling his empty stare wash over you before landing on the guards again.

“Please forgive us King, she tried to escape. We thought-”

“I care not for children’s reveries. I demand that no one touch her and here you are, not only DISOBEYING ME, BUT DARING TO ASK MY FORGIVENESS!” His voice rises in terrifying authority while he approaches.

“Please Ki-” the words don’t make it past the man’s lips before he is pulled off your arm and thrown to his knees in front of the apparent clan King. You step back from the suddenly limp grip of the other horde member as you witness the horrors of their leader’s rule.

Black blood spews haphazardly across the room and over everyone present while the white king’s clawed nails rip into the throat of his disciple. In one jagged rip he pulls the head of his lesser from his body, you barely notice the scream escaping you as it happens. The black pours out of the stump of his neck like a fountain, rivers form on the white floor and splatters drench the regal clothes of the ruler. The dark liquid stains his eerie white appearance like some fallen angel, the dead eyes of the guard stare blankly as he still holds the disembodied head in his tainted hand. Only a moment later he tosses it aside like trash, the dull thump it makes on the stone floor sends a wave of nausea through you.

“Now you,” The eerily calm voice directs towards the other guard in front of you. She backs away feebly with murmured pleas.

“My king please!”

“I SAID KNEEL!” He roars while the previous guards body slumps in front of him. Without blinking, he steps on top of it and advances on the woman. She collapses with a sob, falling forward as her ruler orders.

This time goes much the same as the previous, with him piercing her throat with his bare fingers and tearing backwards until her skin rips apart and spine snaps in two. Much more blood lands on you this time however, making you flinch as a line of blood splatters across your cheek. Her head falls from his grip distractedly and lands in a puddle of her horde brother’s blood, it seems as if he wants this done as quickly as possible before he clasps his soiled hands behind his back and approaches you.

“Oh dear, it seems their blood has tainted your skin. My darling girl, I am sorry for the trouble they caused you.” He speaks cooly as if nothing of consequence has occurred. Then, uses part of his cloak to wipe a hand clean before raising it to your face. You flinch violently before he swipes the line of blood from your cheek. His white eyes stare at you as if not really seeing anything.

“Now, you two. I trust you can escort her back without issue?” He addresses two blank faced guards standing at the side of the room. They acknowledge bluntly before approaching you from each side.

You start to follow, walking back in a daze as one leads and one follows you. They lead you down the corridor quietly, keeping their distance until you reach the door to the dungeon. You only realize once you’re there that you took no notice to anything around you, halls passing in a blur just like before. 

Once the leading guard opens the door you follow, quietly letting them guide you to your cell and lock you in. You only notice yourself shaking when you go to sit on your cot and your knees collapse underneath you. Your eyes land on the tray of food at the front of your cell, kicked aside and smeared across the floor in the scuffle to take you away. Only now the cloth covered apple is revealed, rolled out to the side leaving the napkin behind, a perfect bloody red.

“Breathe, just breathe” You can hear Cal quietly talking to you while the guards let themselves out and lock the dungeon once again, leaving you alone together.

“He-” You stutter before taking a jagged breath in. 

“Shh just focus on breathing for now,” He tells you in a soothing low voice. 

You take another deep breath and hold it feeling yourself starting to shake even more. Repeating as he said you take shaky breaths until you can start to sense the world around you once again.

“Now, are you okay?” You look up towards his voice and see Cal pressed up against the bars watching you with worry. 

“No.”

“What happened?” he asks, making sure to keep his voice low and calm.

The images flash through your mind once again, black blood pouring out of the gaping wound and down over the platemail armor covering his torso. There is so much of it, so much that just keeps coming out. You hear a tiny voice in your head asking what happened to him, the sound so familiar it brings you back to the awful scene you always kept buried.

_“What happened to him? What’s happening Mommy?” You cry out witnessing the red jelly dribbling from the man’s chest, arm and throat. A hand covers your eyes just a minute too late._

_“Don’t look baby, the monsters got to him.” Your mother’s voice shakes almost as hard as her hand. She pulls you along with her other hand, breathing louder than you are used to. _

_You can hear the splashing of something under your shoes as you keep walking, further off the sound of shouting and metal clanging echo through the cold night. You think you must be near the blacksmith’s shop, the sounds and iron smell are oh so familiar, you want to ask your mother to stop and say hello. She doesn’t say anything though, just walks faster until the smell is gone and your feet are on dry stone road._

Shaking your head, you fight back the other memories resurfacing from the traumatic moment. You take another deep breath and look up at Cal when you exhale. He crouches down sliding his hands on the iron bars until he is equal to your eye line. His warm brown eyes swim with sadness and helplessness as he watches you.

"I'll..." you start on an inhale but it comes out choked. Closing your eyes you breath out shakily to put some courage behind your next words, "I’ll be okay."

“You don’t look like it,” he says quietly. 

You look down at your hands and hold back a sob at the sight of black splattered across the front of your dress. Grabbing the bowl from beside your bed, you pour it over your hands, scrubbing the dark substance away in a hurry. With a teary huff you get up and head over to the stream of water falling in your window. You hold out the front of your dress and watch it get soaked by the rivulette of fresh water. Tears blur your vision while you scrub the fabric, frantically trying to remove the stains much to no avail. 

Soon enough you give up. You reach back to the ribbon on your back and yank the knot undone, paying no mind to Cal’s concerned gaze as you start yanking the dress loose. Tearing the messy dress from your arms you revel in the clean white of your thin underdress, inch by inch the untainted fabric is revealed. Once you get the waist ribbons loose enough you bunch up your soiled outer layer around your hips and push it down until it lands in a heap around your feet. With a heavy sigh, you feel some of the weight releasing you and try to silence your mind. After splashing your face with water you remember you are not truly alone, you look over your shoulder to Cal and catch him averting his eyes.

“Pardon my indecency,” You mumble looking back at your underdress as you dry off your hands.

“Please pay me no mind,” He murmurs back. You take a chance glancing back over to him where he is facing away in embarrassment. Then, you spot the white gown left behind by the late guards and scramble to adorn it before anyone could see you.

As much as you hate to admit it, it’s a beautiful dress, perfectly clean and tailored as if they had taken your measurements that day. The cotton sleeves feel comforting and warm over your chilled skin and the surprising softness of the gown makes you wish to just fall straight asleep and forget the whole morning. 

You glance back over to Cal seeing him still turned away and notice belatedly that the gash on his shoulder has reopened leaking crimson down his arm and back.

“Oh no Cal, your shoulder looks bad again, let me help you,” You somewhat plead as you approach him. Hopefully tending to the helpless Werewolf might help you heal in your own mind.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. You should rest, you seemed shaken to your core.” Cal says over his shoulder, he tries to step into the shadows to mask his injury but is too late.

“You don’t have to pretend, please let me help you. It must be hard to reach and terribly sore by now.” You say quietly through the bars, taking them in your hands.

Cal looks over his shoulder, as if unsure, then turns slowly to face you. His eyes grow wide at the sight of you in the new gown. You feel your face grow rosy at the way he looks at you, flattered and unsure of how to handle his attention. Back in the village you had a couple admirers, but the looks they gave you don’t even compare to how his makes you feel. While transfixed he takes a couple steps closer, revealing his wounds to you in the light.

“Oh Cal…” You sympathize seeing the cuts and bruises you haven’t noticed before. He snaps out of his daze with a somewhat adorable embarrassed look, and tries masking his pain by stepping back again. You stop his movement with a hand on his arm, finally feeling his warm skin without any cloth separating you. 

Your hand tingles where you touch him, igniting a spark in your chest that you're not familiar with. Cal’s eyes widen once again while his lips part with a gasp. You are sure you must look the same as you pull back in surprise, wondering what that feeling could mean.

“It’s not so bad…” He whispers as he looks back and forth between your hand and your eyes. “Maybe you could help after all.”

“Oh, okay. Then maybe,” You start in surprise at his easy surrender to you “Maybe let’s sit down like before and I can take a look?”

Cal nods sitting beside the bars while you pick up the still damp cloth to clean him. You try to force away the heat in your face as you pay attention to his sculpted torso flexing with his movement, even grunting in pain as he settles down. His physique is so different from the wiry and lean men in your village where food is scarce since the war. He is the picture of health aside from the obvious and serious slashes and bruises. When you look up you are caught in his gaze again as he looks over his shoulder at you while you approach, his warm chocolate eyes and beautiful tanned skin combined with his brown hair just makes him look so warm. For a moment you linger on his lips, noting the lovely curves and plumpness, but you shake your head hoping he didn’t notice.

“I don’t remember you looking this bad before,” you murmur under your breath as you sit behind him and notice the bruises and burns scattered over his back.

“Well, once you were taken away, the guards decided I needed a lesson.” he growls, muscles flexing at the reminder. ”I let myself get carried away and almost shifted.”

You gasp making him crack a smile.

“Don’t worry, if you think I look bad you should see the guards.” he seems to puff up his chest as he tells you. You nod imagining how much worse they must look after facing a Werewolf.

“Still, I don’t understand why they are beating you.” You mumble to yourself. “They haven’t beaten me.”

“Well you aren’t a Werewolf. I think they’re much more worried that I’ll break through the bars.”

“You shouldn’t fight them then, regain your strength and we’ll figure a way out of here.” You try to scold him but it comes out more like pleading with your less-than-hopeful tone.

“Easier said than done.” he grunts. “One of them was the same one that captured me. The same one who dug into my shoulder when I tried to throw him off.”

Pausing to rinse out the cloth, you nod and look over the wound in question. It gapes further open now, most likely aggravated when the guards came in to rough him up, and you can see the muscle underneath clearly. 

“You know, you never really told me how they caught you.” You avoid the area, thinking in the back of your mind about the best way to treat it.

He freezes at the reminder.

“Well, I ran off from my pack.” He admits. You are not oblivious to the way his voice begins to sound distant as if recalling the event all over again.

“Why would you do that?” You ask him softly. The room falls quiet as you work, you let the silence continue giving him a chance to think.

“I thought I smelled something... “ The words are almost a whisper to himself, but being so close you catch them all the same. “Nevermind, it’s foolish.”

Curiosity takes over your mind as you finish cleaning his wound.

“Oh,” you say biting your lip, “Well, then what happened?”

"They surrounded me, I fell right into their trap." Cal sighs. "Then I thought I saw--well, I mean, something came after me with these silver claws on their fingers leaving these gashes. They had power in numbers, and easily took me down."

Sensing he’s leaving something out, you wonder what it could be that leaves him so flustered. You get up from your seat in the sunlight, and make your way over to your cot, having thought of a solution to dress his shoulder.

“Well at least you didn’t walk straight up to the vampire asking for a room.” You scoff at yourself, tearing the fabric off the mattress in uneven strips. Cal says nothing in return so you continue with your own story while you tear, remembering you never told him the full recount.

“I ran away from home,” you start while reaching into the center of the mattress for the cleanest handful of cotton you can find. “When they told me I was going to marry a man I’d never met.” 

Cal turns abruptly to look at you, shock and confusion evident in his eyes. You smile bitterly bringing all of your materials over next to him, chuckling at your own misfortune at the same time as his reaction. You fall easily into tending his cuts and bruises while recounting your tale of woes.

“You may be shocked but that’s often how the older orphans are gotten rid of in my birthplace. Most strong enough go into labor and the rest have to find their own route out or the head mistress will find it for you.”

“My pack would never force out its own children.” Cal growls while you continue sorting the supplies with a bitter smile.

“Well, I guess I ran out of time. That’s how I ended up running away. I only wish I could have told the children goodbye, but they were in class when I grabbed my things.” You pause, setting down the cloth as realization hits you. “They must think I’m dead by now.”

You still for a moment, thinking back on the children and how defenseless they are now without you to watch out for them. Biting your lip to hold back your tears, you pick up the cotton to begin packing his wound. He nods when you tell him what you have planned, preparing for discomfort.

“Anyway, I was running through the woods all day until I found the Inn with the lecherous old woman.”

“I think I faced the same woman,” he notes, flinching when you place the cotton in the cut.

“Well she puts on a good show, sweet talk, cozy bed and great food.” You start, carefully starting to wrap around his shoulder. “Too bad it was all an illusion.”

Cal turns his head to listen, most likely noting the sadness creeping into your voice. “When I started noticing things were not what they appeared, I left. Just climbed out the bedroom window. Too bad someone found me.” 

You pause to tie off the wrap, now criss crossing his torso in a makeshift bandage. It would have to do for now, at least until it scabs over fully. Lingering on the knot, you remember your arrival at the castle.

“Before I knew what had happened he knocked me out and I woke up being shown to their King.”

He hums at your words rolling his shoulder to test your work. You stare at the bandage, and before you can help it your eyes are wandering around the cell you’re now captive in. The events sink in once again, making you hope that the trust you’re placing in telling Cal all of this will be worth the risk. You have to find a way out, for both of your sakes

Thinking out loud you wonder, “What in the world do they have planned for us?”

Cal stands up with a grunt, wiping his hands off on his pants before he reaches through the bars, holding out an open hand for you. You take it, reveling in his strength before nodding as he echoes your thoughts exactly.

“I don’t know, but we’re not going to be here long enough to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! A cliffhanger is the worst, but I hope you come back for chapter three! Let me know your favorite part, comments feed the muse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooowee... it's been a while hasn't it?

Broken beams of sunlight shine onto your face. You stir, blinking open your eyes. For a moment you forget about the world around you, trying to wake your mind up along with your body. A dull tingling tickles at the back of your mind trying to remember something important but you’re not awake enough to process what it is yet. 

A deep yet gravely “Good morning,” has your brain sounding alarms, but once recognition of the voice settles in you feel relief. 

You echo a good morning, stretching your sore limbs and cursing the lumpy mattress that might just kill you before any Vampire can. As you glance over you notice how Cal watches with amusement as you shake off the morning cobwebs. Arching an eyebrow at his smug smirk, Cal ducks his head. You can’t help but melt into a smile at the small blush rising to his cheeks. The trust you feel is fresh but feels right, and enjoying that knowledge you walk closer to the bars separating the cells.

“How are you feeling? Do you want me to check on your wounds?” Cal gives you a nod accompanied by some pleading eyes. You can’t help but notice how cute his puppy-like pout is before shaking those pesky thoughts away. He turns giving you access to the bandages that need removing and you make sure to handle him carefully as you unwrap them. The wounds look far better than you imagined they would, but still need some attending, mostly washing. 

Small shivers radiate from Cal as you trace your fingertips on the edges of the wounds examining for any remnants of silver, “You know,” the words tumble out of your mouth “These are healing nicely but they’ll still probably leave some scars.” Imagining the dark lines the wounds will leave behind soon, you feel a thrum of sadness but a small sense of pride trails behind. Scars tend to tell a story and these ones--if you make it out of here alive--you feel a little bit a part of. 

“In my pack, scars are warrior marks and considered honorable,” Cal says, shifting slightly under your ministrations. You hum at the new information, filing it away. 

“Well even if they aren’t impressed, I sure am,” You say, standing in search of the bowl to fill from the trickling water stream. You hear a small huff as a reply, but manage to catch the small smile gracing Cal’s lips. 

“Do you miss them?” You ask quietly as you pick up the bowl and walk to fill it up. You notice Cal turn his head to look at you from your peripheral vision, and you hope you weren’t asking him about a sensitive topic.

“Of course,” he responds softly “My pack is so much more than family, we are connected. I can still feel their presence in my soul, I know they are trying to find me.”

You smile to yourself, happy that he has loved ones out there that care for him. If only you could say the same for yourself. You know that no one is looking for you. The other orphans are too young to go off on their own, or if they are old enough they are too busy working to earn their living to spare a thought for someone they likely assume to be dead by now.

“Is there someone that is missing you back in your town?” He asks while fidgeting with a piece of straw he found on the floor. You sit down behind him slowly, carefully setting down the water and soaking a cloth.

“I think not, even if someone noticed my absence they would be too busy to look for me anyway. I am of little worth, and as such not worth the hassle of searching for.” Feeling the bitterness creeping into your heart, you cut yourself off and work on cleaning Cal’s wounds once again.

“Don’t say such things, every person has their worth.” Cal turns abruptly as he speaks with conviction. “You especially are a precious person, selfless and caring of others. I admire that about you.”

You feel your cheeks heat as he looks at you with nothing but burning certainty, his warm brown eyes bore into yours imploring you to believe him. Slowly, he turns to sit facing you, wincing slightly as he shifts. Then once he settles his gaze pours over your face as if mulling something over. You blink in surprise as he reaches through the bars to take your free hand softly in his larger one. His palms are rough and firm, making you feel grounded and safe as you slightly squeeze your fingers around his in return. For a moment he ducks his head and looks at your hands, idly rubbing his thumb over yours before he levels you with a sure look.

“Once we escape, I want you to return to my village with me.”

You blink owlishly in surprise. 

“Cal…” you start to speak though you are unsure how to reply.

“I want you to be safe. I know you may not trust me completely yet, and may even be suspicious of me trying to kidnap you by taking you somewhere you don’t know, but I want to protect you.” He takes a deep breath before covering the hand he already holds with his other hand as well. “I know you don’t have much to go back to, I want to offer you somewhere you can find a better life. Somewhere I can show you that people care about each other and will not pawn you off to someone else.”

Looking up at Cal, you marvel at the compassion he shows you. Never since your parents died have you felt someone cared so much about you. It seems silly to think about how attached the two of you seem to have grown in such a short time, but you embrace it seriously all the same. If he really cared about you enough to offer you a home then how silly would you have to be to refuse it as you have no other options anyways. Your stomach secretly flutters at the notion of living with him, though you are unsure if he actually meant in his own home.

“I suppose I would have nothing to lose if I said yes,” you smile shyly. Cal’s face lights up with what looks like hope as he nods waiting for you to continue. “Are you sure I would be allowed to live with your pack?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” your face falls at that and you look disappointedly down to your lap. Cal’s hand surprises you once again though as he lifts your chin back up to look at him. “But I’ll find a way. Even if it means living outside the village, I’ll make sure we have a home.”

“You… you would live outside your pack in order to provide me a home?” You can’t help the slightly breathless way you ask him as your heart speeds up in your chest. 

“Well… I mean…” He starts to stammer as his tan skin flushes red. “Yes, I would.” 

His words ring with resolve. You look at him with question in your eyes, astounded at his generosity. His hand drifts from under your chin to stroke back a lock of hair behind your ear, it leaves tingles on your skin as it drifts back to your hands. 

“Not only do I owe you, but I know you deserve a better life than living behind these bars or running away from those who wish to do you harm.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “You looked after me and tended to me in my other form having no idea if I would hurt you, which I never would.”

He looks up shyly, smiling at your stunned expression. You continue to sit in silence while thinking everything over. You never really had a place to call home, not since before the war that took your family away when you were small. You can remember the feeling but it’s been so long it seems distant, foreign even. It seems almost like a fantasy to think about having a home with someone like Cal, so strong and caring.

“Cal… I-” you start to speak but suddenly find yourself interrupted by the sound of the dungeon’s door unlocking and being thrown open. You barely have time to gasp before a handful of guards are marching into the room. You and Cal jump to your feet, separating before they could see you huddling together.

“The King is expecting you,” one of the guards says approaching your cell to unlock the door. You shake your head in horror as you suddenly remember the previous encounter with the evil man. Just as you hear his key click in the lock you notice Cal rush towards the front of the cells, shocking you as he reaches through your cell and holds the door shut.

“You are not taking her again,” he growls holding tight on the iron bars of the door. 

You gasp in surprise at his instinct to protect you. But, before you can really react, you see the guard look back at the guard holding a spear behind him and gesture at Cal. The Werewolf only growls while the other Vampire steps forward and lunges towards him spear in hand. You flinch watching the silver tip dart past the bars and towards Cal’s abdomen, but before it makes contact Cal turns sideways in the blink of an eye deftly dodging it. Before the guard can draw the spear back Cal has already latched onto it, pulling the guard who holds it against the bars. Cal moves almost quicker than you can follow as he pulls the weapon free from the guards grip and clutches onto their arm, twisting around it painfully until they shout out in pain.

“Drop it mongrel,” another guard hisses as the rest draw their own weapons on him. Cal pushes the disarmed guard away and lifts the spear threateningly. You feel your gut churn anxiously as the group approaches his cell and you decide to step forward.

“Stop! I’ll go,” you tell them shakily. Cal looks over at you in surprise before backing up in the cell to get closer to you.

“Don’t go, I can keep them away from you,” he tries to assure you but you shake your head sadly.

“No, they’ll just hurt you again and I can’t have that on my conscience.” You step towards your cell door with shaky legs. The Vampires watch you suspiciously as you grab onto the unlocked door and push it open. “I’ll go as long as you leave him in peace.”

“We don’t make deals with humans,” the leader hisses at you as he lowers his sword. You gulp but try to steel your nerves before doing something risky. After Cal risked himself selflessly trying to protect you, the least you could do is return the favor. 

You lower your head in fake submission as you step out of your cell, while you stay in your spot you see the leader start to approach you as he lifts his sword to sheath in on his belt. Before you can convince yourself not to, you reach out and grab the blade. The silver slices through your skin as he slides it into his sheath leaving a gash on your palm before he can pull away. 

“Foolish girl, what are you doing?” the Vampire jolts back as you hiss in pain. You pull your hand to your chest and glance down at the crimson pooling in your hand and quickly running through your fingers. Cal calls out your name in shock and lunges the spear through the bars towards the guards throat. You can see the Vampires staring at the red liquid with thirst and you feel your nerves falter, but with a deep breath you raise your head to address them.

“I wouldn’t say foolish, it would seem you are the foolish one for injuring me after your king expressly forbid you to even touch me.” You look at him with as much power as you can muster while he goes from shock to fury.

“Ridiculous! You hurt yourself,” He seethes almost reaching out to grab you but he is stopped when Cal pushes the spear closer to his throat.

“Why would I hurt myself, I would have to be absolutely moronic to cut myself in front of so many vampires.” You remark feigning confusion. “What I remember is being told to leave my cell, and when I wasn’t going fast enough you lashed out at me. I only tried to block myself when you cut me. That seems rather careless to me knowing how my blood could cause a fuss with your comrades.”

“You miserable wretch,” the man fumes with gritted teeth. “The king would never believe you.”

“Oh I wonder if you are sure about that,” you reply with confidence. “I suppose you could tell him I was cut by something else… but then how will you explain the blood on your sword, and now also in your sheath.”

You know you have him cornered know as he clenches his jaw with silent rage. When you glance over to Cal you see him flash you the briefest grin before you look away again.

“Don’t hurt him and I won’t tell your King it was you who hurt me.” You stare at him with defiance.

The guard stares back in silence before he gestures at the others to lower their weapons on Cal. 

“Fine, come with us.” He says nodding towards the dungeon door. You look back to see Cal handing back his spear as the others pass him. His eyes lock on you and fill with worry, you send a wary smile back hoping to be back with him soon.

The group surrounds you as you approach the exit, herding you away from the cells. You swallow the lump in your throat as you are led into the corridor and send a quiet thanks out when you hear the dungeon close behind you. At least you know Cal is safe for now. 

Holding your hurt hand behind your back you follow after the leader through the stone halls. You can feel small amounts of blood drip onto the floor behind you as you go, hopefully leaving a noticeable trail for you to retrace. Eventually the group stops in front of a pair of tall carved wooden doors, knocking twice before they are opened from the inside.

A wave of fear washes over you as you see the white King standing at the other end of the room facing another stained glass window. A long wooden table separates you from him as you step into the room, with an arrangement of serving dishes on one end and nothing but an empty goblet on the other. Glancing around the room you notice the walls surrounding you are covered in floor to ceiling bookcases, by the covered end of the table there is a roaring fireplace to warm the room. Before you can look around any longer you notice the king turn to face you, his pale eyes send a shiver up your spine just as they did last time you saw them. 

“I hope you have had a pleasant morning miss.” The king says stepping around the table to approach you. Despite the warmth from the fireplace in the room you feel yourself shiver as he seems to glide closer. The guards behind you shuffle closer so that you approach him, but then you see him pause before he gets any closer. He lifts his head with a slow inhale and you clench your bloody hand closer to your body behind you.

“You are bleeding,” he states angrily. Your eyes grow wide as he bares his fangs with a scowl, of course they shine white just like the rest of him. He turns his gaze towards the guards who stand behind you and growls out his next demand. “How did this happen?”

“I cut myself my King,” you interject much to the vampire’s surprise. You slowly pull your hand in front of you to show him the damage and see him focus intently on the mess of blood. With as much convincing pouting as you can muster you try to sell your false story in order to keep up your end of the bargain with the guards.

“There was a jagged piece of metal on my bed and I scraped myself while getting up. I’m sorry I may have ruined the beautiful dress you gave me.” You look down with faux shame and notice him step in front of you.

Before you can brace yourself you feel a cold hand slip under your own injured one. The pale man lifts it as if inspecting the cut with his dead eyes, you tense in fear feeling his sharpened nails ghost threateningly over your red stained skin. An intense sense of vulnerability washes over you as he lifts your hand up to his face, you only notice now as he inhales the metallic scent just how badly it has been cut. A stray trail of blood catches his eye as it runs past your palm down your arm. Then, before you can pull away, the king’s tongue chases the line of liquid.

You pull in a shaky breath as the white Vampire grabs onto your arm, holding you still so he may lick up the trail of blood seeping from your cut. The feeling of his cold mouth running over your skin sends a dreadful shiver up your spine as well as an intense feeling of wrongness to your stomach. You can do nothing to move from his iron hold except curl into yourself with discomfort as he cleans the mess of blood from your hand. His fangs protrude more noticeably around his bloodstained tongue as he licks up the liquid collecting in your palm. When he pulls back to lick his lips there only remains the line of the cut on your cleaned palm, barely starting to collect blood again.

“I knew you would be exquisite,” he states tilting his head back with closed eyes as if savoring the taste of you. You feebly pull your hand away from his loosened grasp to tuck it into your chest. Turning away he addresses the guards still waiting behind you, “Get her a change of gown, filthy rags will not be worn in my presence again.”

The guards react accordingly as if what they just witnessed was nothing out of the ordinary, whisking you out of the room and down the hall until you are ushered into a kind of washroom. Noticing a basin you make quick work washing off your arm and splashing your face with the cool water. Before you can relieve yourself though a female guard walks in with another gown draped over her arm and a roll of bandages in her hand. Once she has left again you carefully change into the new gown and wrap your injured hand. Thinking quickly you stuff the remainder of the gauze into your bodice, hoping to provide Cal with proper wrappings at last. 

Looking up you notice a full length mirror resting in the corner, you walk up to appraise your attire. The dark gown is more revealing than you would prefer in this setting, the way the bodice accentuates your bosom and the sleeves leave your shoulders bare makes you feel rather exposed. You’ve never worn something so… sultry in your life, and you are somewhat worried about why the king would choose for you to wear this at all.

With a nervous breath out you turn the handle to exit the washroom, you come face to face with the guard from earlier who must have been waiting for you. You feel a little unsettled when you notice his pale eyes roving over your exposed skin, then lingering on your bare neck. You avert your eyes waiting for him to lead you back to his leader and look around for an exit as you walk back.

Once you arrive back to the library, or is it a dining room, you are quickly shown inside before the doors close loudly behind you sending an echo through the room.

“My my, don’t you look as delectable as you taste.”

You jump as you notice the pale vampire emerge from a dark corner of the room and approach you with inquisitive eyes. He rakes his gaze over your body with interest as he slowly circles you. After a good once over he walks to the end of the table and pulls out a chair.

“Sit, we have much to discuss.” He waits quietly, watching as you cautiously approach and take a seat. You tense as he pushes your chair closer to the table. Between the bodice and the table you feel like you are suffocating. The king’s breath brushes over your neck for a moment as he leans over you from behind your chair, the sensation leaves goosebumps and a craving for some space away.

“Eat young one, you will need your strength.” The Vampire whispers before retreating to the other end of the table. 

You look over the spread in front of you with newly found interest, compared to the orphanage this was food fit for royalty. Glancing up you notice the king watching as he sips from a goblet and carefully pick a few items to fill your plate. As you pick up the silverware to begin eating you wonder briefly if it is made of silver.

Thinking quickly you run over ways to steal any pieces of silverware you can manage, you aren’t sure if you could get away with it though as the white-eyed king watches avidly. You bide your time eating fruits and cheese as you pick apart a grilled fish, waiting until the man raises his goblet to tuck a fish bone into your hand bandaging. After minutes of eating in silence you begin to feel antsy.

“Why am I here,” you blurt out, unable to sit in tense silence any longer.

“I was beginning to wonder when you would ask that.” He responds, leveling you with a cold stare. “Once you are finished we will take a walk and begin teaching you what you need to know.”

You narrow your eyes at the mystery he still keeps surrounding him and take your time finishing your food. Eventually you feel sated and put your utensils down debating trying to swipe one as the king stands up.

“Come now pet, let me educate you.” He paces towards you and extends a hand to help you stand. 

“And if I were to refuse?” you test him glancing between his ghostly eyes and sharp hands. His expression hardens at your question and he steps up beside you threateningly.

“You do not have that option.”

Looking away from his scowl you swallow the lump forming in your throat. You reach out slowly and accept the hand he presents to you and stand from the table.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments, it feeds my muse. I love to hear from you! -Lunacy


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